forgive me for staring, forgive me for breathing
by mirajens
Summary: When she pads over to him, her heels barely sounding against the carpet and her smile telling of many things, he moves with her like he is always prone to because she's push and he's pull like moon cycles and waves.


**forgive me for staring, forgive me for breathing**

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 _(100 Kinks: sex on a desk)_

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When Erza walks into Jellal's home office looking tired but still achingly beautiful with the brilliance of wildfire, he looks at her in that stupid way he always does: as if she carries the sun. When she pads over to him, her heels barely sounding against the carpet and her smile telling of many things, he moves with her like he is always prone to because she's push and he's pull like moon cycles and waves. He rolls back the office chair so she can stand between his knees and lean up to see that belly-turning smile curl the ends of her lips.

Now he watches. She is putting a show on for him even though its nearly two in the morning and both of them are still elbow-deep in take home work. He watches her lean back against the lip of his desk, just so slightly. He watches her take the belt of her wrap around dress and slowly tug the knot at her side so the giving fabric slides open, slithering against each other in the way only silk can. He watches the dress part to reveal the lingerie underneath: cups of plum satin trimmed with a darker shade of lace. The bikini matches perfectly. He watches her, that cheeky minx, reach for his chin with a French tipped finger to close his agape mouth. He watches her roll her shoulders back so her dress can brush down her skin and fall into an arch by her feet. He watches her take one of the hands he has fisted by his waist as some semblance of restraint. After that, it is time for him to _feel._

To feel the warmth of her skin as she lays his palm against her waist, his last finger just touching the lacy line of her knickers. To feel his hand glide up the smooth curves of her, up her ribs until he stops where there is more lace and satin. To feel his heart pound like a war drum against his chest as he stands up to be closer, to feel the intensified rush of blood under his skin as she watches him with those smug eyes and presents him that daring smile as if saying she knows what he wants and she urges him to take it. And, God, does he.

Jellal doesn't know where to kiss first. The structure of her neck is an alluring thing made even more so by the warm lighting of his desk lamp casting shadows on the crevices of bone and slope. The swell of her breasts look inviting, too. He settles for the obvious, the siren call; he kisses her plump pink lips. Her mouth is just opening into a sigh when he crosses his mouth over hers and licks into her. She tastes like _manna_ after a dessert sojourn— like euphoria achieved. When she moans against him and when her arms grab at the buckle of his belt, he allows her to do quick work of freeing him. There's no need to voice his approval, she can probably already tell how much he loves the way she pumps his aching cock.

When he can't take it any more, he takes it up a notch. He pushes Erza back until she takes the hint and slides her ass up on the edge of his desk. He sees her reach back so she can unhook her bra and toss it aside just as her back hits the surface of his work. He sees her heeled legs hook on the edge of the mahogany, then the swath of plum satin between her legs, dark with dampness. It's his job to take it off, of course. The look she's giving him prompts hastier action; he has her panties on the ground with her dress in no time.

Sliding into her is so, so easy. Erza yields like he is exactly where he belongs and she is demulcent and hot which he believe are components to madness. So he takes her just like that, rough and zealous. He doesn't know how much faster he can go when she screams for it but he tries until his rhythm gets messy and he's pounding her right onto the atlas he is supposed to be giving his boss in nine hours.

After a long day of work, Jellal knows how to fuck his lady proper. God knows they both need something to keep them awake for all the paper work they have to get done.

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 **note:** Well. I was supposed to make an 8 Ways for jerza but a. i got lazy and b. that writing style weirded me out so much. i felt like i was verbally masturbating everyone who read it. ew. so ya have this less creepy version instead.


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